


I'm hopelessly hopeful, you're just hopeless enough

by CelestineAzure87



Category: Cycling RPF
Genre: 00s teen film galore, Birthday Party, Comedy of Errors, Does it count as Rogla cameo if there's a mention about Slovenia I wonder, First Kiss, First Love, Jealousy, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Teen Romance, needlessly angsty and grumpy Mathieu, teenage mathieu and wout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestineAzure87/pseuds/CelestineAzure87
Summary: Mathieu is the unhappiest birthday boy - he is hiding from the guests for his own 16th birthday party, one guest in particular; the one who had the audacity of bringing a GIRL with him. But Mathieu can't hide away forever; the very boy he was avoiding knew him too well.
Relationships: Wout van Aert/Mathieu van der Poel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	I'm hopelessly hopeful, you're just hopeless enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jae_universe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jae_universe/gifts).



> This story is a product of collaboration between Jae-universe and I!
> 
> We agreed on how useful it is to use someone else's prompt to build a story around it, which led to us exchanging the prompt idea, two keywords and a paring to write a story about.
> 
> Mine are: "Mathieu and Wout" "Birthday Party" and "Very jealous Mathieu". 
> 
> I am looking forward to reading Jae-universe's work, too!
> 
> Also! If somebody wants to join this challenge, please let me know! You can comment to this story, or contact me directly (Tumblr and Discord on my profile page). As somebody who is writing in their second language and haven't written any fiction in ages, exploring theme and style like that gives me so much fun. Thank you Jae-universe, you are awesome!
> 
> Title is from I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) by Fall Out Boy

" _Please_ , Mom, could you tell those people to go the fuck away? Tell them I'm dead. Or went missing. Whatever."

"Mathieu, for the last time, _get out_. This is YOUR birthday party and I am not going to allow my rude, arrogant, ungrateful son to sulk in his own room for the entire time. Now get out, get dressed properly, and say nice things to the guests. And thank them for coming."

"What am I, a show dog?"

" _Mathieu_!"

Mathieu sighed, very loudly, hoping his mother outside of the door hears him loud and clear. He could at least show her how unhappy he is to be dragged out of his room. He knew it makes no difference to his mother whatsoever - after all, he knew her for 16 years, by today - but he can't just go down without a struggle.

He opened the door. It was his mother's turn to sigh loudly.

"You look disgusting. Did you even shower last night after the gym? And when's the last time you shaved properly? Now get in the shower and don't come out until you look decent. "

"Thank you for the loving words, _Mother_. Really appreciate your kind words."

His mother was, again, having none of it.

"I love my son way too much to let him seen in public like this, on his birthday, out of all day. Shower. Now."

"But Mom..."

"NOW!"

++++++++++++++

"Oh, you finally caught him. Way to go, Mom."

Mathieu hears his brother talking to his mother outside the bathroom over the sound of shower running, and rolls his eyes, hard. _Why nobody in this house leave me alone, ever?_

"Captured him and threw him in the shower, all right. Else he might escape from the toilet window."

His brother laughed. Mathieu thought David hadthe most annoying laugh in the entire universe now.

"David, are you sure you don't know why suddenly he's like this? "

"No clue. Girl trouble? I really don't know. He was really excited until, like, a week ago."  
  
 _David is stupid, SO stupid. Mom's stupid too. And Dad. Wout is stupid. Everyone's so stupid.  
  
_ _But Wout is the stupidest. Wout and his stupid girlfriend, whoever that is. I bet she's ugly. And smells. What kind of name is that, "Annabelle"?_

++++++++++++++  
  
 _It's all Mom's fault_ , Mathieu cursed, fuming inside. _Mom and her stupid party planning. And stupid letter writing. What's the point to making flowerily fake-arse envelops with weird cursives? People are going to throw it out anyway._

_And David. He was supposed to post the letter. But of course he couldn't be arsed, the lazy arse._

The invitation, looking all elegant and feminine to Mathieu's utter dismay, were spread out on the dinner table, half out of the paper bag, for all Mathieu to see. Looking around and concluding the responsible party won't be coming back to the living room anytime soon, Mathieu started to go through the names and addressees. Why shouldn't he have a say on who is coming to his own 16th birthday, anyway?

 _I will throw away all those "invite them to be nice" invitations, because fuck Coach Bakker's stinky son,_ Mathieu swears to himself.

Going through all the names of his relatives, friends, and acquaintances, however, Mathieu was secretly looking for one name. _He's coming, right? Right? I hope he comes. Of course he will come. He should come. We are best friends, I love him, and I'm sure he loves me too. And it's my birthday, after all._

Mathieu's heart started to beat faster as he spotted the letter _W_ on one of the envelops, half hidden under other envelops. He put his fingers on it, tracing the lovely name he likes so much, letter by letter. Mathieu thought of the game plan, once again.  
  
 _First, I need to get him to come to me, by himself. I can ask him if he'd like to sneak out to have a beer with me. Then I will hold his hand, like really naturally, saying there are some rocky places or whatever. Then I'll see if we can keep holding hands, like that. Then I will tell him I want a birthday hug from him. I don't think he would say no.  
  
_ _Then I will tell him how much I'm in love with him, how much I wanted to kiss him whenever we were alone for a long time. And he will tell me he feels the same. Then we'll kiss. It would be great if Wout kisses me first, but if Wout is being shy, I guess I can pull him into a kiss._

_Fuck, this will be the best birthday ever.  
  
_ Wanting to see his name in full, Mathieu pulled out the envelop under another. Then he noticed there was another name after Wout's.  
  
Annabelle Hendrix.  
  
 _Wout van Aert & Annabelle Hendrix.  
  
_The earth stopped turning. All he could hear is a sound of a vacuum cleaner somewhere far away, buzzing around, all intrusively and insensitively. 

++++++++++++++  
  
The first thing Mathieu did, as hazy as it his memory of doing so, was to run to his room, booting up his (stupidly slow) PC and opening up (stupidly slow) Facebook page, and open Wout's page.  
  
No sign of a girl named Annabelle Hendrix. She's not listed as Wout's girlfriend - Wout does not list his relationship status. Nor she was in his Facebook friend group. As a matter of fact, there was no such woman named Annabelle Hendrix living near him. (Mathieu did not believe Wout would be dating a 37 year old social studies teacher in Amsterdam. _That's, like, ancient_.)  
  
 _So, this is a secret girlfriend of Wout. Great. Whatever. She must be so ugly and Wout must be ashamed to be associated with her._ _But he is bringing her to, out of everything, MY birthday party. Probably to introduce her to my parents or something. So it must be pretty serious._  
  
 _So, Wout didn't love me, after all? But I've felt something between us. The way Wout looks at me. The way Wout smiles back when he catches me looking at him._   
  
_What the_ _fuck_ _?_

++++++++++++++++  
  
Mathieu got out of the shower, feeling like a zombie. Even the steam and warm water didn't make him feel better. His dread increased tenfold when he saw the suits hanging from the shelf.  
  
 _Now I look like Ms. Dekker, the creepy math teacher nobody likes, who lives with 9 cats and her Mom._  
  
 _GREAT. And I am seeing stupid Wout and his stupid girlfriend in THIS._  
  
 _Fuck this. Fuck Wout and his stupid girlfriend. Fuck my birthday. Fuck all of this._  
  
Feeling defeated, Mathieu pulled down the grey monstrosity from the hanger. The roughness of the woollen suits made him sigh - maybe it was the dread towards wearing that suit triggered the deeper thinking. His mother's word earlier suddenly came rushing back to his ears.  
  
 _Else he might escape from the toilet window.  
  
_ Mathieu opened the lid of the washing machine as quietly as possible. Thanks to David forgetting to the laundry again, Mathieu managed to pull out his not-so-badly soiled hoodie and sweatpants, plus mostly-OK-looking base layer from the bottom part, even though he needed to give up on socks.  
  
Zipping up the hoodie, Mathieu opened the door quietly, looking out for the corridor. Nobody's there - his mother must have been in the kitchen, taking care of the cake or something. Holding breath, Mathieu slipped out, heading for the toilet one door down.

++++++++++++++++  
  
The air in the forest was gaining thickness rapidly with fast approaching evening chills. Mathieu looked up, seeing stars appearing in the sky. It will be completely dark in an hour. _Then maybe I can freeze to death_ , Mathieu mused. _I won't be coming back to the house. I'd rather die here. My life sucks and everybody's so stupid.  
  
_ _If I freeze to death here, will Wout feel sad?_ Mathieu wondered, trying to grab his ankles to keep warm. _Will he cry, when he realises I loved him so much? Will he regret not kissing me when I was still alive? Will he come to the funeral, all dressed in black, and give my cold lips a final kiss, when nobody's looking?  
  
Or will he come to the funeral with that Annabelle girl next to him? Will they kiss afterwards? Will Wout smile at her? Wil Wout forget about me sometimes, and find somebody?_ _Like Annabelle?_  
  
 _Or will Wout call my name, when he is alone, just to hear the sound of it, just like I do?_  
  
Mathieu loves when Wout calls his name. It sounds so different from anyone else doing the same. It sounds sweeter. Nicer.  
  
"Mathieu."  
  
 _Yes, just like that. Why my name sound so nice when Wout calls it?  
  
_ "Mathieu, I found you!"  
  
 _Oh this is nice, my shoulders feel warm_. _Have I already died and am I in heaven?_   
  
It took Mathieu a few seconds more to come back from the dreamland to realise that Wout van Aert, the boy he was dreaming about rather morbidly, was actually kneeling next to him, putting his hand on shoulder, calling his name.  
  
"I found you. I knew you will be here." Wout smiled, and for a next few seconds, Mathieu wanted nothing more than taking Wout's hand, jump into his arms, and bury his face in his chest, and stay like that forever.   
  
But he didn't. _Stupid Wout, can't he see it's all his fault? How dare he sounds so happy and relieved, when it's all his fault, getting a girlfriend and breaking my heart, ruining my birthday? My life?_  
  
"Did Mom send you here?"  
  
"And your Dad. They are worried, you know. I told them I can bring you back. Looks like I was right. " Wout grins, and Mathieu didn't know if he wants to kiss him, or shout at him, or both.  
  
"What makes you think I am going back with you?"  
  
 _Wout is still smiling_ , Mathieu thought. _Why? Is it because he knows what I'm feeling, just like he always does? Or is he taking the piss? Laughing at me because I like him lway too much, and he thinks I'm pathetic?_  
  
"Well, it's your birthday party happening just down there, and you need to be there. Your Mom's cake is ready, and I'm sure you want to have some. And it's getting really cold out here. You didn't bring your coat with you when you left the house." Wout handed Mathieu his coat, the one Mathieu left on his bed. Mathieu snatched it out, and threw it on the ground.  
  
"Mathieu? What's that's about?"  
  
"You are always so nicey nice to everyone, and look at you, being a snitch to my parents, pretending like you care."  
  
"But I do care. You are all cold now." Wout started to sound sad, and Mathieu was so very tempted to hug him now, apologise, and beg for his forgiveness for being such a dick to him. But of course he didn't - it's all Wout's fault, after all.  
  
"And why do you call me a snitch? I came here because I knew you won't like it if I tell your Mom and Dad where to find you. I came here by myself, right?"  
  
Mathieu looked down. Wout was wearing new-looking dress shoes, but now it's covered in mud. His grey trousers were dirty, and looking up, he could see his suit jacket sleeve was torn, seemingly by stray tree brunch. His white shirt had some muds on.   
  
_Stupid Wout, he will get into trouble_ , Mathieu thought to himself. _He will be scolded by his Mom and it's all my fault_. _Why did he wear suits? To impress Annabelle? I don't care, he looks so stupid, in suits and all muddy. How dare Wout bring a girlfriend with him, ruining my life like this?  
  
_ "Anyway, I don't wanna see your stupid face anymore. Go back to your stupid girlfriend and snog her or something."  
  
Mathieu really, really didn't intend his voice to crack, like that. But it did. For a few seconds, Mathieu prayed Wout didn't notice it.  
  
Of course he did. He always does.

"Mathieu... what the _fuck_ are you talking about?"  
  
For some reason today, however, he sounded different. He sounded...confused. Very, very confused. Like Mathieu suddenly started to speak Slovenian or something.  
  
"Mathieu?"  
  
Mathieu looked over his shoulder, slowly. Because he just couldn't squeeze any words out of his throat anymore, which he knew he would regret to slip out of his tongue for the rest of his life.  
  
Even more so than being seen by Wout, with his eyes filled with tears.  
  
Wout was looking very, very surprised. Mathieu thought he was going to ask, _Why are you crying?  
  
_ He didn't. Mathieu knew it's because he already understood why. _He knew._  
  
"Mathieu, she's -"  
  
Mathieu closed his eyes. He would have covered his ears as well and screamed until his throat bleeds out, were it not for the hand gently placed on his shoulder and he really, really, REALLY didn't want Wout to let it go.  
  
"Six."  
  
Mathieu thought the whole earth got sucked into a vacuum cleaner or something, because his ears stopped functioning for a few seconds. Maybe his brain too, because he could not understand what Wout just said.  
  
" _What_?"  
  
"Annabelle, she's six years old. She's my cousin. She's visiting from Manchester with her Mom and Dad. She's not my girlfriend. I don't have one."  
  
"But the card..."  
  
"Anna's really into Disney Princess shit now, and she's _obsessed_ with dress-up parties. She heard that I'm invited to your birthday party, and she insisted to come with me. My Mom called your Mom, and she was really kind and said yes, and she addressed the invite to her as well, as my "guest". She was having a blast playing a princess with your cousins and your Mom, last time I saw."  
  
Mathieu had no idea if he should scream, or cry, or laugh, or throw up on the ground, and he had no idea why he's feeling any of those. He felt like his body turned into a wax statue, except his eyelids. He _can_ blink. So he tries to blink the tears away. There's just two problems.  
  
One, there were already so much tears and his eyelids just can't blink fast enough to hide everything away. Two, Wout was looking into his eyes directly, seeing everything he does. There's nowhere to hide.  
  
"Mathieu, Anna's not my girlfriend. I don't have one." _So don't cry anymore.  
  
_ Mathieu didn't hear the last part, at least with his ears. He felt it, by the soft touch of Wout's fingertips, wiping his tears away from his face. And by his smile on his lips. And his eyes, all deep brown and beautiful.   
  
Mathieu closed his eyes, hoping Wout hears what he was trying to say to him, without speaking.  
  
And Wout must have heard it. Because he drew him closer, and pressed his lips to Mathieu's.  
  
 _Of course Wout did. He always does.  
  
_ ++++++++++++++++++

"Oi, wake up already, birthday boy. We'll be late for the party."  
  
Mathieu blinks, rubbing his eyes and groaning. Their bedroom is now filled with sunlight, reflecting the snow outside. It stubs through his poor, hangover-ridden brain and eyes.  
  
"Shit.. What time is it?"  
  
"10. Now get up and get dressed. " Wout is grinning, looking down on him. He is in suits already, with his back against the window, drenched in the winter sunlight. Even though his head is aching with all those red wines from yesterday, Mathieu could not help but smile.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You were in the suits too, 10 years ago. "

Wout's eyes lights up with nostalgia, gaze softening.

"Yeah. And you were in dirty hoodie and jeans, freezing, looking all sad and miserable. "

"Not after you came over." _Now kiss me and make me feel all better again, just like 10 years ago._

Mathieu closes his eyes, knowing Wout hears what he is trying to say to him, without speaking. And Wout heard it for sure. Because now he is on his knees, on bed, pressing his lips to Mathieu's. "Happy birthday, Mathieu. I love you."  
  
 _Of course Wout did. He always does._


End file.
